Under the Surface
by Venomous Angel 75
Summary: Rachel realizes that there is something more to Puck than the bullying jock he is and she decides to find out what that is. Maybe he will eventually understand that there is something more to her as well.
1. Common Ground

**Disclaimer: I claim no right to the **_**Glee**_** universe. Please Review! **

**Sorry to those of you who have me on Author Alert for another story. I'm still working on finding my inspiration to continue them. Maybe someday. Anyway, if you're a Glee fan, check this out and let me know what you think. I'd love to hear if people want more.**

**P.S. Made some edits.

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She knew the exact moment when the world fell out from under her feet and she experienced a complete shift in perspective. To be clear, it wasn't really one particular moment that everything changed. It was more a series of small moments that came together all at once in her head. But those moments, when they did combine, nearly knocked Rachel off her feet.

It was just like any other after school Glee practice; Mr. Schuester and Artie were discussing the particulars of how to best fit him into the choreography for their latest number, Rachel was practicing quietly with Finn, her face lighting up like Christmas every time he turned that thousand watt smile on her, and Kurt and Mercedes were having a light argument about the costumes. The Cheerios were practicing the choreography and the footballers minus Finn were listening to the tale of yet another of Puck's conquests.

Rachel hummed the last few bars of melody, her heartbeat spiking as Finn followed along with her and smiled as they finished. "It sounds really good, doesn't it?"

He nodded. "Yeah. We're going to kill with it." His gaze flickered away to Quinn and his expression softened. "Excuse me," he mumbled and slipped away to her side leaving Rachel alone with her longing thoughts.

Rachel sighed. She hated being so far down on the social food chain. Even with the most popular football players and cheerleaders joining Glee, she was still the high school pariah. She let the hand holding her sheet music fall to her side, bile rising in her throat as Finn leaned close and kissed Quinn gently on the forehead before pulling her into a careful hug.

Tearing her eyes away, she happened to glance over at the other three football players and the expression on Puck's face caught her by surprise. He looked exactly the way she felt. Looking away quickly lest he notice her attention, Rachel found herself sympathizing with him and angry with herself for sympathizing with him. He was not the kind of person with whom she would ever identify...still, seeing his face like that indicated that he wasn't completely unfeeling. It made him seem human.

She shook her hair back and went to place the sheet music in her backpack, keeping her face hidden as her mask crumbled. She was pathetic. Sure, she and Finn had amazing chemistry and it was obvious that he was attracted to her as well, but with Quinn being pregnant and the stand-up guy that Finn was, Rachel had no chance of making him her own. The whole situation likely would end explosively and she was sure she didn't want to be around for that. She liked Finn, she really did, but she was tired of playing second fiddle. She deserved someone without all those strings, someone who could just love her.

"Hey, Rach," Finn said behind her.

Blinking away the moisture in her eyes, Rachel turned and gave him a smile. "Yes?" God, he was beautiful.

He grinned back. "I just wanted to say thanks for coming back. It really means a lot to me, to the club, you know?" His mouth twitched like he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

Rachel only nodded.

His smile faltered. "Okay. Well, I've got to go. Lots of studying to do. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure. I'll be here," she said, a small part of her dying as the words left her lips. Waving farewell to the rest of the club, she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, the books seeming to weigh more and more with every step she took. She paused at a vending machine to grab a water and kicked it as it dispensed her beverage. She really was pathetic. Her feet automatically traveled the familiar path to her locker; she still had to grab her math book. She had just turned the corner when she spotted Finn and Quinn down at the end of the hall. His locker was right next to hers.

Unable to deal with anymore heartbreak for the day, she darted back around the corner to hide. And slammed right into Puck. He only grunted at the impact, but she bounced back and fell over, her bag popping open and spilling her books. Afraid to look at his face, she mumbled a hasty "sorry" and scrambled around to get her things.

When she had crammed the last of the books in her bag, she leaned back to push herself to her feet and was startled by the hand he thrust in her face. Automatically, she recoiled and fell on her butt again. She glanced at his face for the first time and saw his dark expression.

"I'm not going to do anything to you," he growled, his hand still extended.

Hesitantly, she placed her fingers in his and yelped as he yanked her roughly to her feet. He let go instantly and shoved his hand back into his pocket.

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her fingers. He said nothing. She pulled the strap of her bag back over her shoulder, fiddling with it nervously as he continued to stand there and stare at her silently. "Well," she said with false brightness. "I'll see you tomorrow." Steeling herself, she strolled back around the corner, but, thankfully, the objects of her initial discomfort were gone. She hurried to grab her books and get off school grounds before anything else awkward happened.

It wasn't until she was home and ensconced in her bedroom that she allowed herself to think about the interaction she had experienced with Puck. She set her bag next to her desk and fell back onto the bed. Closing her eyes, she replayed the collision over and over in her mind, her heart inexplicably racing as she remembered the feel of his hand over hers, his piercing hazel eyes.

A shiver ran down her spine completely different than the one that usually did when she thought about him. Those eyes captivated her like no one else's ever had. Not even Finn. For sure, Finn's eyes were a nice pretty brown, but they were kind of dull. The only time they did light up was when he smiled, but it was never an intelligent light. Puck's eyes were different. It was easy to see the fierce intelligence and confidence inside him, she guessed that was why so many girls wanted a piece of him, even if he was a dick afterward and beforeward and anytime-ward. She scowled. Here she was making up words to add to her description of his terrible behavior. And thinking about him having sex.

With a cry, she pressed her palms into her eyes and tried to grind out the unexpected image of him wearing only jeans. He liked to walk around like that during the summer and she had seen him more than once. Those muscles were quite enchanting. He practically reeked of sex. That was probably why all the housewives he had sex with liked him, too.

She rolled over onto her stomach and propped her chin up on her hands while she thought about that. Why did he go for those women? Was he really just all about sex and the lack of attachment those women offered while appreciating his body? She had a hard time believing that he cared so little about not only himself but those around him. The look on his face this afternoon had told her as much.

In a sudden burst of understanding, she realized that his home life must have conditioned him to act the way he did. She had once read an article in a medical journal about how a child's behavior often reflected the home situation. So it made sense that because he had grown up in an environment that made him feel completely out of control and he bullied everyone around him to gain some sense of security. It made her sad to think that he was only a jerk because his parents hadn't given him what he needed. His eyes, when he thought no one was looking, told her that he was so much more than an unfeeling boor. A small part of her inexplicably wanted to be the one he let in, the one he trusted. She wanted to see what he was so afraid to show.

Noah Puckerman was still an asshole, but now she knew there was more to him than that. While she didn't exactly vow to crack his shell and bring out who he really was, she was determined to show him that there were people in the world who did think he was worth it, who cared enough to stick around despite his prickly exterior, that even an enemy could see the good in him.

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Puck scowled at himself in the mirror as he wiped the steam from its surface. He smoothed saving cream over his skin on either side of his mohawk and rinsed his razor before dragging it across his skull. This style was so high maintenance, but he didn't mind. It totally fit his image. What did not fit his image was Rachel. His scowl deepened as she invaded his thoughts again. She did not belong in his head.

He managed to finish his shave without nicking himself and used a wet towel to wipe away the remainder of the shaving cream. Scratching his chest, he remembered the brief full-frontal contact with Rachel when she had spun around the corner without looking and slammed straight into him. She had been pressed against him for less than a second, but he could still feel her breasts squished against him and the soft brush of her breath across his neck as the impact drove the air from her body.

He hadn't quite known what to do when she toppled over. Since joining Glee, he had made an effort to curb his more vicious tendencies toward the freaks, but he couldn't bend down and help her gather her things. That would have been completely against the "Make Freaks Miserable" philosophy that he had lived by for the last several years. It was a huge concession that he didn't kick her books away out of spite. He should have just walked away, but that didn't happen. All he could do was stand there and stare at her as she gathered her things, wondering why she refused to look at him.

With a small huff that had brought him around, she pushed the last of her books back into her bag. Impulsively, he had stuck his hand out to help her up. His gut twisted as he thought of how she had flinched away from him and fallen again. He had never and would never physically hurt a woman no matter how much he disliked her, so the flash of alarm on her face had sparked his anger. He would never be that kind of man.

"I'm not going to do anything to you," he had said, fully expecting her to push herself up, totally surprised when she slid her hand into his. It was tiny and warm. He closed his hand around hers and pulled her up harder than he meant to, feeling a twinge of guilt at the small whimper she let out, but he couldn't apologise. Not yet, anyway.

"Thank you," she had said, her face a mixture of wariness and forced cheer.

Somehow he was mesmerized by the way her lips moved as they formed those words, holding the shape of the last sound so that it looked like she was preparing for a kiss. And he wanted to give it to her. He was so horrified at his thoughts that he hadn't registered what she had said next before she flounced off around the corner and out of sight. He was too disturbed that he had been staring at her without a single malicious thought in his head.

Puck shook his head to get rid of his musings. No good could come from thinking about Rachel Berry. Not that he cared, but she was already way hung up on Finn and that entire situation didn't need more complicating. Plus, she was a fr-, a person too different from himself for any compatibility to exist. However, he would, here in the deep dark recesses of his most private thoughts, admit that she wasn't so bad. In fact, he could almost see in her what attracted Finn: the hot body that was soft and tight in all the right places, the obvious vocal talent, the sweetness that was visible every once in a while when she relaxed her guard. He wondered what she would be like if she let her guard down for longer than a few seconds or for someone other than Finn. He wondered if she would let him kiss her.

He snarled and tossed the towel across the room. It was all too much to think about and it was all pointless. He forced his thoughts to Quinn. God, Quinn. Like thinking about her was much better. He scrubbed a hand over his face and flopped down on his bed. If he had thought that she would get pregnant or that Finn would find out, he never would have gone that far. But, he supposed, he hadn't been thinking. Not with his brain, anyway. He groaned. Too much alcohol and rejection had led to that wonderful, awful night.

Quinn's parents had been out of town and she had asked him to come over and check their spa, considering his business. He was still smarting from Santana's stupid reason for dumping him and Quinn was upset about Finn's ridiculous (at the time) interest in Rachel. Well, some wine coolers for her, some more beers for him, a little commiseration about their frustrations and he had leaned over and kissed her.

He could admit to himself that he'd always wanted her and seeing her sitting across from him with pink cheeks and a pout about getting too fat for Finn (which was also ridiculous, Finn was so not that shallow) made him want to comfort her. Unfortunately, the only form of comfort he really knew how to give would get them both in a lot of trouble. But, to his surprise, she kissed him back and while he definitely pushed her for a certain result, she never took one of the many opportunities he gave her to say no. He wasn't that kind of man, either, but he was too far gone to stop himself without a clear signal. Puck hadn't ever had much self control.

The next day had been terrible. Not only did he have a hell of a hangover, but he was feeling really guilty about what had happened. Quinn had refused to look at or speak to him and he had avoided his best friend as much as possible, making some excuse about being sick and hiding in the nurse's office all day. He supposed he really had been sick, but not exactly physically. That was the day he had decided to cease looking for a relationship; older women with experience and no expectations were all he was chasing anymore. No chance of getting hurt there.

Glancing at the clock, Puck heaved himself to his feet and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt before heading out to the kitchen. His dad lay drunk and bloated on the couch, a half empty bottle of beer hanging from one hand and his mouth opened wide in a snore. Puck shook his head in disgust. He had no idea why his mother had taken that man back again. He didn't understand why she had taken him back any of the other times either, but that was between his father and herself. Absently, he rubbed his arm, thinking of the way it always hurt when the weather was cold.

He was careful not to make too much noise as he grabbed a tupperware container from the refrigerator with his name printed neatly in his mother's handwriting. "Love you!" she had scrawled under his name. He snorted softly, but felt guilty about it. He knew she meant it. She was a good woman and a good mother, except when it came to her choice of men, namely his father.

Puck pressed the button on the microwave slowly to avoid the loud pop when it opened on its own and placed the container inside, closing the door the same way. He punched the numbers in fast and waited around while the food heated so that he could catch it before it beeped. He really didn't feel like dealing with his dad tonight. As the counter hit zero one, he pulled the food out and snagged a fork from the cutlery drawer.

It was only when his door was shut and the lock was in place that he took a full breath. He couldn't wait to get out of this town.


	2. Baby Steps

**Disclaimer: I claim no right to the **_**Glee**_** universe. Please Review! **

**I love to hear if people want more. 10 reviews for the next chapter. If you haven't already, check out the first chapter again. I've made some edits to it.

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At six AM sharp, Rachel's music clicked on and her eyes popped open, a smile lighting her face as Matthew Wilder's "Break My Stride" filled her room. Maybe it was silly to always wake up to the same song, but something about this one spoke to her. She definitely identified with the determination and it was very important that she not let anybody "break her stride." Really, it was the perfect motivation song.

Folding her sheets back neatly and sliding out of bed, she pulled on her sweatpants, swept her hair into a ponytail and stepped onto her elliptical for her daily morning workout. Her smile widened as she got into the heart of her workout. She loved pushing herself farther and faster every morning. It was like a metaphor for the rest of her life, pushing on despite resistance and, though she wasn't literally moving forward on her machine, making progress toward her goal of becoming a star.

As she ran, Rachel thought again about her interaction with Puck while she stared at the "Sectionals" goal taped to the support beam directly in front of her elliptical. A spark went off in her brain, an idea of how to help him and still keep moving toward her goals. She could coach him, help him improve his performance, thereby increasing their chances of winning at sectionals and having time to demonstrate that he wasn't as cut off as he thought he was. Yes, it was a perfect idea. Now all she had to do was convince him that it was a good idea. Of course, surviving the first few encounters was high on her list as well.

She had no illusions that it was going to be easy to crack that shell, but, she thought as she set her jaw in determination, she was never one to back away from a challenge. Unless it was singing back-up. That was her exception.

When she couldn't take the burning in her legs anymore, she slowed and set her machine for a five minute cool down. She was just finishing when her dad knocked on the door.

"Rachel? Breakfast is ready. You have to eat soon or you're going to be late," he called through the door.

"What?" she said and looked at the clock, nearly falling off the elliptical in a panic. She only had twenty minutes to get to school and she still had to get ready. "Can you just pack me some toast and a smoothie? I have to get ready!"

She heard his chuckle through the door. "Working out too long again? All right, but you have to promise to sit down with us tomorrow morning."

"Of course, Daddy. Thank you!" she called and darted into her bathroom, shedding clothes as she went. The spray of hot water felt heavenly, but she scrubbed down in record time and was out of the shower and drying her hair within ten minutes. She threw on the clothes she had set out the night before (Thank God for small miracles) and dashed downstairs with her bag thumping on each step.

Her dads stood together next to the door, each with something for her in his hands.

"Thank you, Daddy," she said and gave him a quick peck on the cheek as one handed her breakfast. She took her lunch from her other dad, sure to give him a kiss, too, as she ran outside. Digging her keys from her pocket, Rachel threw herself into her car and started it up. Sighing, she backed out of the driveway carefully, waving to her dads as she pulled away from the house. Once she turned the corner, she slammed on the gas. What her dads didn't know couldn't hurt them.

She pulled into the parking lot with five minutes to spare and screeched into a parking spot. Whew, some of those turns had been harrowing. Good thing she lived so close to school. She got out of her car, dragging her bag with her, and set off for class. She waved to Kurt and Mercedes as they walked arm in arm to their lockers and smiled hesitantly at Santana and Brittany as they strutted by. They ignored her.

"Rachel!"

Rachel paused, glancing over her shoulder at Finn who was jogging toward her with a goofy smile on his face. Automatically, she felt her own face split into a wide grin and she waited for him to catch up. "Good morning, Finn. How are you?"

"Um, good. So, we sounded good yesterday, huh?" he said, his smile fading to the sweet half-smile that twisted up one side of his mouth.

"We could work on the mechanics of it a little and you were a little flat on the end of it," she started, but seeing a slight cloudiness seeping into his eyes, she continued, "but, yes, we sounded good." Her heart fluttered at his proximity and she was smiling a little too wide. He was so easy to like and he made her feel safe with his large body and careful way he touched her.

The cloudiness cleared and his eyes lit up again. "Cool. I-oh, there's Quinn. I'll see you later, Rach." He bounded away calling her name.

Rachel took a deep breath and pressed two fingers to her temple. She really had to stop that. But it was so easy to get caught up in his sweetness and his cute idiocy and his adorableness and…she snapped her shoulders back. It was all pointless because he had a pregnant girlfriend that he was obviously all about, especially now with the baby. It would be a cute baby, too.

She paused at her locker, giving the wonder couple a brief smile as she shoved the extra books inside. Quinn wasn't really so bad, now that they had something in common. Rachel wished it had been because she herself had risen on the social scale rather than Quinn moving down, but she'd take what she could get. Baby steps. That's all it took, determination and baby steps.

She shut her locker and glanced up the hall, her body tensing as she saw Puck heading toward her with a 7-Eleven cup in his hand and his football buddies at his side. Steeling herself, Rachel started walking toward them (her class was in that direction) and hoped that he wouldn't douse her in berry-flavored shaved ice.

She managed mostly to keep her gaze away from him as they approached each other but she couldn't resist looking at him when he was only a few feet away. Anxiety built up as she saw the lid missing from his cup and she drew in a deep breath.

Her sense of pride wouldn't allow her to back down, so she looked him straight in the eyes and dared him to do it. His eyes widened as she caught his gaze and for a brief second he seemed conflicted. His mouth wasn't twisted in its usual cruel smirk. Instead, his eyes were wide and staring directly into her face. A small spark of hope lit in her chest.

She should have known better, she thought as the cold wet slush hit her face.

She stood there for a split second, feeling the sugared water slide down her face, and all of a sudden, a hot, bright rage galvanized her into action. She furiously wiped most of the mess from her face, dropped her bag and spun around. Thoughts of being nice and helping him out fell by the wayside as she stalked back toward the group laughing near a water fountain and snapped, "Hey!" When Puck turned with an arrogant and unsuspecting smile on his face, she curled her hand into a fist and punched him right in the face.

Whether he fell back from the force of the punch, the surprise or both, she didn't know, but she did know that it had felt really good and really bad at the same time. Her hand hurt! She raised her chin, set her jaw and stomped back to pick up her bag, determinedly ignoring the incredulous stares of what felt like the entire student body as she headed to her first class.

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Puck staggered back with a look of absolute shock on his face. What the hell had just happened? He remembered throwing his drink in Rachel's face and ignoring the twinge of guilt as she sputtered. He remembered laughing with the guys by a drinking fountain and ignoring the growing feeling of guilt. He remembered hearing her distinctive shrill voice behind him and turning around-and he didn't remember what happened next. At least he hoped he didn't, because that would mean that a girl who couldn't weigh more than ninety pounds and was nearly a foot shorter than him had punched him in the face and actually made quite a big impact on his soft tissue.

He shook off the supporting hands and touched the spot just below his left eye that smarted. Scowling at the tenderness he felt, he knew he'd have a shiner tomorrow. She'd hit him in just the right place.

"Jesus, was that Rachel Berry?" one of the guys said.

Puck grabbed him by the edge of the shirt and jerked him forward to get in his face. "Shut the fuck up," he snarled. He wanted to chase after her, to make her regret her actions, but a small part of him couldn't help but be impressed. Guys much larger than she were wary of starting something with him, so her courage (or foolishness, he wasn't sure which) earned her his grudging respect. He let the guy go and straightened his own clothes.

He stalked into class in a foul mood and sat in the back with his arms crossed and a murderous look on his face until the bell rang.

He was just heading into the bathroom to see if his face was bruising yet when Finn caught up to him.

"Hey, Puck," his friend said. "Did Rachel really slug you?"

Puck's mood darkened further. The amusement and admiration in Finn's tone irritated him more than the actual punch had. He only grunted and pushed into the bathroom.

Finn followed him. "Aw, come on. It's not like you didn't deserve it. You treat her like shit and you've definitely cost her a fortune in dry cleaning bills." He clapped a hand on Puck's shoulder. "Are you going to bruise?"

Puck shouldered Finn away from him. "Leave me alone. What are you? Her white knight? Get off it, bro. You've got Quinn plus one. Quit wasting your time with that freak. She'd only end up cutting off your dick or something because you didn't call her when you said you would or something crazy like that. The girl is fucking nuts." Even as the words came out he could see the fire that had burned in her eyes right before her fist connected and, God help him, it turned him on.

Finn glared at him in disgust. "Why do you have to say shit like that? Sure, she's a little intense, but she's nice and talented and going somewhere." Finn shook his head. "Just give her a chance and stop being such an asshole. There's more to her than you think." With a huff, he left Puck alone.

Puck leaned over the sink, gripping the porcelain tightly, and glared at his reflection. Yeah, he was going to have a nice mark tomorrow.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of mocking comments and more than a few threatening snarls. Football practice was eventful and he almost got tossed out for his attitude and overly aggressive behavior, which he thought was ironic because Coach positively encouraged it during games. And all of it was compounded by the fact that Mr. Schue had called a late Glee practice so the football players could attend. Puck was in no mood to sing and dance, but it wouldn't do to have Berry think that her little outburst had affected him at all.

Nonetheless, he stayed extra long in the shower and took his time dressing so that by the time he was done, there was no one else in the locker room. He grabbed his bag and pushed through the door to find her leaning against the opposite wall. Her hair was pulled into a soft side ponytail and she was wearing a different shirt. She looked like she was going to puke.

"Hi," she said softly, softer than he had ever heard her speak, except maybe when she was talking to Finn.

"What?" he snapped.

She swallowed convulsively, then squared her shoulders and straightened away from the wall. "I wanted to apologise. I lost my temper and it was completely unacceptable behavior on my part to strike you. I've always prided myself on my ability to keep my impulses under control and I am thoroughly upset that I lost it today. But -"

"Whatever," he interrupted and started away from her.

The shock of her hand on his arm made him pause.

"Please don't leave Glee," she said.

He spun around to face her, insults ready, but the look on her face stopped his voice. She was closer to him than she had ever been and the proximity made his head swim. Her dark brown eyes looked up at him pleadingly and he considered how easy it would be to lose himself in the depths. He couldn't contain the thought that her skin looked really soft.

She backed up almost immediately and he almost missed the warmth of her hand on his arm. "Sorry," she muttered. "But, please don't leave."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you care? Don't you hate my guts? Because I sure hate yours." The quick flicker of hurt in her dark eyes pricked his conscience. This sure was a day for regrets. That little flash of hope this morning right before he threw his drink on her had eaten at him all day, but there was no trace of it in her gaze now. She was very good at hiding the pain.

Rachel bit her lip and squeezed her hands into fists. "No, I don't." He raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're certainly not one of my top ten favorite people, but Finn obviously sees something good in you. Also, you are a valuable asset to Glee. And Glee is about accepting people for who they are. While I definitely don't like your malicious actions, I can respect your talent and respect you and hope that by showing you that I-we will take you however you are, with some concessions on both parts because I think Kurt would appreciate an end to the visits to the dumpster and you would prefer that he keep the costumes simpler, that you will see that we're just regular people, too."

He stared at her, marveling at how she had managed to say all that without taking a breath. "What?"

She scowled. "You are talented and I think you're nice very deep on the inside and, if you can't bring yourself to be yourself, then you can at least be civil on the outside."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. He felt like a fish, but he had no idea what to say to that. He knew he was giving her an opening, a huge opportunity to believe that she was right about him. He couldn't help it.

He watched in both horror and anticipation as she leaned forward and reached up, brushing her fingers across the top of his cheekbone where she had struck him. Her facial expression shifted from one of determination laced with fear to one of remorseful compassion. "I didn't think it would bruise like that," she murmured.

Everything in his body clenched at the soft touch of her fingers and he found himself shaken to the core. He could probably count on one hand the people who had touched him with such tenderness in their hands and their faces. The gentle look in her eyes made his chest hurt with longing and anger at the same time. Why did she have to be the one to touch him like that? His expression must have changed because she jerked her hand away.

Her face was flushed and she twisted her fingers together behind her back. "Um, sorry," she whispered and took off down the hall. For the third time in two days, he was left staring after her as she ran away.


	3. Concessions

**Disclaimer: I claim no right to the Glee universe. Please Review!**

**I love to hear if people want more. 10 reviews for the next chapter, as usual.

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Rachel hurried down the hall away from him, her cheeks burning and her fingertips tingling. What in the world had possessed her to touch him like that? Or just plain touch him? Pressing a hand to her chest, she darted into an empty classroom and took a deep gasping breath.

She was going to die.

She hadn't been able to control herself when he had looked so unlike the vicious Puck she usually encountered. The expression was endearing on his normally scowling face and she could see the faint bruising already darkening his skin. Without thinking, she had touched him like she would someone about whom she cared. His skin was hot and less rough than she would have thought.

She wished she could have hit him without the bruising as an aftereffect. He was sure to take it as an affront to his masculinity and she knew how protective some men were of their male image. There was no way she could have told him that she didn't doubt his masculinity without him taking it in a sexual and perverted direction.

Immediately his expression had tightened and she grew terrified that she had crossed a line. Some lines were not so bad to jump over, but she knew it wouldn't take much to shatter the tenuous connection that she felt she had made with him. Touching him really didn't seem the way to strengthen that connection judging by the look on his face when she had done so.

She hadn't known what else to do. Running was the only solution of which she could think, so she fled. At least when she had punched him, there were tons of witnesses around, so he couldn't exactly do much, but with the halls completely empty at this time in the evening, she was definitely not safe.

She let out a little shriek of frustration. She tried so hard not to let all of their hateful comments and blouse-ruining actions get to her, but each and every needle they shoved under her skin made its way to her heart. And she held all of them there, locked away until she was too worn down to hold her head up and keep the lock closed. Tears threatened to spill down her face, but she dashed them away with an angry flick of her hand. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Rachel was the first to admit that she was insanely determined to meet her goal and that she had many personality traits that rubbed people the wrong way, but that didn't mean that she was impervious to their taunts and jeers. She knew who she was. It wasn't her fault that everyone else was too insecure to let her be.

Who was she kidding? She wanted to be accepted just like everyone else. She wanted to see one (okay, preferably more) friendly smile in the hallway, to hold hands with and kiss someone and worry about making it home in time for her curfew. She was sick of worrying about whether she had packed an extra shirt or if her dads would see how deeply the bullying affected her.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself into a calmer state. She was glad to be herself and she wouldn't want to be anyone else. With the steel will that drove her determination, she pushed all those thoughts out of her mind and schooled her features into what she hoped was a neutral expression.

Glee was waiting.

Rachel smoothed her hands down her front and straightened her back. She was not going to run from this. But she did peek out into the hall to make sure it was empty before stepping out. She kept her hands pressed tightly to her sides to hide the nervous shaking.

Without permission, her mind wandered back to the last glimpse she had of his face and she felt the shiver all over again. His incredible eyes had darkened when she had touched him, but she couldn't quite place her finger on why it had struck her so. She had seen his eyes turn upset a thousand times before, so why was this time different? Maybe it was because she was actually looking at him, noticing him for the first time.

A wayward thought informed her that he would be devastatingly handsome in his seduction attempts if he put more of himself out there, if he was sincere. That was why she had fallen so hard when Finn had turned on the charm.

She hadn't known anything other than sweet sincerity prior to Finn's seduction attempts and before that, she wouldn't have believed him capable of such deception. His smile had melted her instantly and turned her brain to mush. Not so much any more. The way he had tried to use her made her feel sick. She still felt the flutter in her stomach and experienced a slight loss of cognition when he turned that grin on her, but it didn't quite hold the same power. Puck's smile, however, made her curious. She knew he could smile. She'd seen him do it before, but he hadn't ever smiled at her. She would bet that it could be just as thrilling as Finn's, maybe even more so. The man did have experience.

She sighed. She really was going crazy.

The doors swung inward as she strode through and she immediately met the disapproving glance of Mr. Schuester.

"Where have you been? We're almost half an hour in," he said with a long suffering tone.

She smiled apologetically, trying to ignore the heavy gaze of a certain young man. "Sorry, Mr. Schue. I-I had to take care of some personal business," she apologized.

He shook his head, his expression a mixture of surprise an exasperation. "It's fine. Are you warmed up?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I am. What are we working on?" She took the sheet music from his hand and scanned it quickly, a smile lighting up her face. This was a good song. Her eyes flickered up to meet Finn's and he smiled, too. The weight on her shoulders grew, but she would not acknowledge it. Instead, she opened her mouth and poured everything she was feeling into the song.

* * *

Puck had fixed his gaze on her the second she had walked into the classroom. Her cheeks were still pink and her eyes were bright, but he couldn't tell if it was because of him or if she was just excited about Glee. The club was her reason for living. He did see the light tremble of her hand as she took the music from Mr. Schue, but again, he couldn't tell if it was from him or excitement. She usually had a ton of energy and he hadn't paid all that much attention to her in the past, so it was a toss up either way.

Her lips curved up at the corners as she scanned the music and the smile widened as she glanced up at Finn. Puck crossed his arms in disgust. Finn was a nice guy and all, but there was no good reason for both of these girls to be all over him.

Puck frowned. Who was he kidding? Finn was everything Puck wasn't. He had those big puppy dog eyes that suckered them in and that smile that made them melt. Not that Puck was ugly or anything. In fact, he knew he was quite the male specimen, but it was a different kind of hotness. Finn made girls tingle. Puck made them burn. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face at that thought. But it faded quickly as he admitted that the burn only lasted for so long before it cooled and he was by himself again.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the clear musical notes issuing from Rachel's throat and his bad mood was temporarily suspended. Though she was extraordinarily talkative and bossy, the sounds she could make erased all the rest of her for a short time. It was the only time he could really stand to be in her company, until recently, because somehow she soothed the turmoil inside him. Talk about using music to tame a beast.

His eyes stayed locked on her face as she sang some sappy song about loving someone who couldn't or wouldn't love her back. He saw the way her face changed when Finn's voice joined hers and fought down the jealousy that threatened to choke him. He was not attracted to her.

As he watched her, he marveled that she could be so transparent and closed at the same time. She was terrible at hiding her fascination with Finn or at reining in her self-absorption, but she appeared to be a master at suppressing hurt feelings. He was ashamed to realize that he had never thought about the impact his actions had had on her. He was only concerned with keeping his top spot in the social hierarchy, never mind the cost to those he stepped on to get there.

He crossed his arms tighter over his chest. Well, fuck her. He didn't care what happened to her or if he had hurt her. Really. She was massively annoying and creepy. She was a freak. She was beautiful and she only had eyes for Finn. He wanted to look away as they started improvising the choreography, spinning around each other and then she was placing her hand on Finn's chest, the fingers curled in slightly so that her nails dug into his shirt a little. She pushed away into a twirl, but he caught her hand, pulling her back against his body and sliding his arm around her waist. That sweet smile curled up the corners of her mouth and…Puck couldn't take it anymore. At his limit, he stood quickly, sending the chair in which he had been sitting screeching back, and stalked out of the room.

Puck had almost made it to the parking lot when Finn caught up to him.

"Hey, man," Finn called, grabbing Puck's shoulder and pulling him to a halt. "What's your problem?"

Puck pushed him away. "Nothing. I'm sick of the way that room smells like loser."

Finn pushed him back. "Grow up. You spend more time in there than I do, so that's not what's going on." He took a breath. "I know you like being in Glee and aside from earlier you've been just fine hanging out with all of them. So, what the hell?"

Puck refused to confess why he was really upset, so he threw a bone he knew Finn would take. "My dad's back, okay?"

"Oh. Shit." Finn was at a loss for words. He scratched the back of his head. "You, um, want to stay at my place for a while?" He was familiar with the whole pathetic story of Puck's childhood, so he didn't push when it came to Puck's dad.

Puck shook his head. "No. I'm not gonna leave my mom alone with him. But thanks."

Finn nodded. "Door's open any time."

"Yeah. I'm just gonna-" Puck jerked his head toward his car. Finn squeezed his shoulder and stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow." He trudged to his car as Finn reentered the school. He patted his pockets for his keys and realized too late that they were in his backpack, which was still in the classroom. He did not want to go back in there.

"You forgot this."

Puck nearly jumped out of his skin when Rachel spoke. She stood several feet away with his backpack hanging from her outstretched hands.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you might need this. I'm certain you have homework to do."

He grunted and snatched the bag from her hands. She flinched, but held her ground.

"You're welcome," she sighed and turned on her heel. And again, he was stuck watching her walk away.

* * *

Rachel had been startled by Puck's abrupt departure just like everyone else, but unlike the rest of the Glee club, she felt somewhat responsible. Finn had gone chasing after him right away, leaving her standing there exchanging looks with Artie and Tina. She glanced at his chair and noticed his backpack still underneath.

She warred with herself for a few brief seconds. Should she face him again so soon? Would he react poorly to her bringing him something that he might need very much just because it was her? No, she decided. Whatever the outcome, she was going to take every chance she had to show him that people did care.

"I'll be right back, Mr. Schue," she informed him, grabbing Puck's backpack and exiting the room before she lost her nerve. She neared the end of the breezeway, slowing as she heard the two boys talking.

"My dad's back, okay?" Puck said, his tone warning her that it wasn't exactly a good thing.

"Oh. Shit." She bit her lip as Finn's reaction confirmed it. Feeling bad about listening in, she turned and crept back down the hall slowly. A few seconds later, Finn called her name. "Rachel?"

Stopping, she tried to keep the guilty look off her face as she turned around to face him. "Oh, hey. Is he gone? I-he forgot his backpack and i know he has homework and everything, so I thought I'd..." She trailed off as Finn started laughing.

"Puck? Homework? That's a good one." His laughter trailed off at the disapproving look she gave him. He coughed. "Um, he might still be in the parking lot. Do you want me to-?"

"No," she cut him off. "I can do it." She walked a few steps, then reconsidered. "But could you wait here and maybe check on me if I'm not back in a couple of minutes?"

He grinned. "Sure."

She smiled at him. "Thanks. I'll be back in a second." She darted down the hall and out into the parking lot. She could see him standing out by his car with his hands on his hips and his head down. She stopped a few feet away and said, "You forgot this."

He jumped and spun around, his face drawn down in its usual scowl.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you might need this. I"m certain you have homework to do." She held out his backpack expectantly.

He grunted and grabbed it. The sudden movement caused her to recoil, but she was proud that she stood firm. He dug around in the pocket and pulled out his keys.

"You're welcome," she said and left him. There was no need to push her luck. She had only taken a few steps when...

"Thanks."


	4. Interaction

**Disclaimer: I claim no right to the Glee universe.**

**Thank you so much for your continued interest. Last night's episode was AMAZING and just confirms that the sweetness is there! ****Sorry if this chapter's a little off, it was really difficult to write and school is just starting to kick my butt. Hopefully I can get 5 finished and up by this weekend, but I'm not promising anything.**

**Please Review!

* * *

**

The next morning started with a groan. Puck whacked the 'Snooze' button on his alarm clock and shoved his head under his pillow. A soft knock on the bedroom door elicited an irritated "What?"

"Don't you talk to me like that," his mom admonished, sticking her head in the room. "You asked me to make sure you got up early this morning. Don't get upset because I'm doing you a favor."

He groaned again. "I know. Sorry," he grumbled, head still buried under his pillow. She just laughed and shut the door.

Tossing the pillow aside, he sat up and rubbed his eyes having temporarily forgotten about yesterday's events. He winced as he accidentally pressed hard on his left eye. That little fist had sure packed a lot of force. With a smirk, he thought about how much her hand would hurt. He bet she would have a few marks, too, considering that was probably the only punch she had ever thrown. Bruises nothing special to him.

He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled down the hall to the bathroom, studiously ignoring the clock that told him it was 6:00 in the morning. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he scowled. His eye was ringed with dark purple. He looked like he had been beat down by a monster. It really was all about where one got hit rather than how hard the punch was. Today was going to suck.

As he expected his mother gasped as he entered the kitchen half an hour later. "Noah! What happened?" Her eyes flickered toward the ceiling. The kitchen was directly under the master bedroom of the house.

He clenched his teeth. "I pissed off a chick."

"Don't talk about women that way," she said automatically, then realized what he had said. "Excuse me? A girl did this?"

"Yes," he huffed. He didn't have to save face in front of his mom. She knew him better than that. He dropped into a chair at the table and rubbed his head. "She's kinda crazy. It's not funny."

His mom shook her head, but her smile didn't disappear as she set a plate down in front of him loaded with food. "Of course it's not."

"Damn straight it's not," his father rumbled as he walked through the door.

Puck's jaw tightened as he saw the light leave his mother's face. He practically felt the knots form in his back as the man crossed the room and grabbed the orange juice from the refrigerator. He stood when his dad reached for the vodka. "I think I'm gonna head to school and try to fit in a workout before class." His mother handed him a Tupperware container into which he dumped his plate of food. "Do you need a ride to work?" he asked her.

"No. I'll be fine, Noah," she kissed him on the cheek. "You have a good day at school. I'll see you at dinner."

He sealed the container with the lid and threw it in his backpack. "Bye."

"Noah," his father said.

Puck turned and looked at him. "What?"

"I didn't raise a pussy."

Puck's gut twisted. You didn't raise anything, he thought, but only nodded to his dad. His mother bit her lip. He gave her a small, sad smile and left.

It wasn't until he was dressed and warming up for his workout when his rage burst to the surface. He practically sprinted through his entire run and he worked with the heaviest weights he could handle, pushing his muscles far beyond their limits. He was shaking from exhaustion by the time he finished and it took all of his determination to stay awake in the shower.

In a haze, he dried off and threw on his clothes twenty minutes before class was scheduled to start. Vaguely, he remembered wanting to find Rachel, to talk to her and smooth things over prior to seeing her with everyone else around. Slinging his backpack over one shoulder, he set off for the practice room.

He pulled open the door to find her, not singing as he expected, but sitting at the table with books spread out in front of her. Her dark hair was swept to one side, exposing her neck, and she had the end of her pen between her teeth. He stepped inside, accidentally making the door squeak and she looked up sharply. He didn't like the way her face shifted from surprise to caution at the sight of him.

"Good morning," she said, shuffling her papers together and closing her books.

"Hey," he said.

She barely glanced at him as she gathered it all together and started loading up her bag. "The room is yours," she told him and brushed by him on her way out.

He moved fast, catching her arm and pulling her to a halt. "Rachel, wait. I, uh, wanted to talk to you…about yesterday."

The force of his tug caused her to overbalance and she fell back against him. He curled his other hand around her hip to keep her upright. She sputtered and pushed away from him as soon as she was steady. "What about yesterday?" She met his gaze for the first time and her face fell. "Oh. I am very sorry about your eye. I didn't think about what would happen after..." She trailed off.

"How's your hand?" he asked, grabbing it and holding it up to inspect her knuckles. As he had thought they were swollen and slightly discolored. He let his fingertips slide gently along the dips between her knuckles. "Looks like it hurts."

"I, uh, yeah," she managed. The tension in her body practically vibrated in the air around them.

Puck sighed and dropped her hand. "Would you relax? I'm not going to hurt you."

Rachel's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Physical pain isn't the only way to hurt someone. Forgive me if I don't believe that two weeks in Glee has changed your feelings toward me. All I want is peace." She adjusted her bag and took a small step back. "And prior to yesterday, I thought we had achieved it."

He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said.

She blinked at him, her dark eyes wide and startled. "What?"

"Jesus, Berry." It was hard enough saying it once, but the bemused expression on her face was totally worth it. So, he repeated, "I'm sorry."

Her mouth opened, her lips moving to form the beginning of the inevitable monologue, puckering again like she was expecting a kiss, and he just lost it. Bringing his hands up to cup her face, he dipped his head and shut her up with his mouth.

She squeaked in surprise and tried to break the kiss, but he refused to let her go. She didn't close her mouth fast enough and he took advantage, sweeping his tongue inside and tasting her briefly before releasing her. She tasted like vanilla. "Truce, okay?"

Rachel's hand flew up to her mouth and she stared at him with an oddly unreadable expression on her face. When he raised his eyebrows as if waiting for a response, she nodded frantically.

"Good," he said and felt some satisfaction at leaving her behind watching him split. He paused right outside the door where she couldn't see him and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He was NOT the kind of guy to get worked up over a girl, especially not one whom he had tortured for the entirety of their acquaintance. He supposed he could blame it on his state of exhaustion, but he knew better than that. She had gotten under his skin despite his best efforts to keep her out. Damn her and her soft touch.

Licking his lips, he knew that her taste would haunt him the rest of the day.

* * *

Rachel stayed frozen until the bell rang, her mind completely blank for the first time in her considerably sharp memory.

Noah Puckerman had kissed her.

Noah. Puckerman.

She let out a small shriek and jumped as the school bell rang, racing through the halls to her first class. She made it just in time and dropped into her seat completely out of breath.

Jacob Israel gave her a creepy smile. "Thinking about me again?"

She was sure he had bribed the registrar to place them in classes together and it usually made her skin crawl, but she barely registered his presence today. All of her senses were completely focused on the interaction she had just experienced with the young man who was previously the bane of her high school existence. If she closed her eyes she could still feel his hand on her hip and smell the soap from his skin. Heat flared in her cheeks as she remembered the roughness of his fingertips along her jaw and the confident stroke of his tongue against her own. And her heart fluttered even faster as she replayed his words, "I'm sorry."

Those were definitely the last words she had ever expected to pass his lips and she was surprised at how they affected her. Never had she thought that he would come to her of his own volition and apologize. She didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for, but just to hear that phrase…

Absentmindedly, she pulled out her notebooks and pens and passed the class time taking notes as she normally would (a little slower than usual since she had punched him with her right hand), but if asked what she had written, she would have drawn a complete blank. She didn't notice the odd looks from the teacher or from the students around her when she didn't raise her hand to answer every question. At the end of class, she packed up her things and left the classroom without a word to anyone. Jacob trailed after her assailing her with his usual crude affirmations of his attraction to her, but she couldn't even hear him.

She swung by her locker to switch her books and he followed her, leaving her alone only when she elbowed him in the sternum for being too close. He huffed and muttered something about "getting her one day," but she continued to ignore him.

Staring at the inside of her locker, she tried to make sense of what had happened. There was no possible reason for Puck to have kissed her. And there was no reason in the world that she should be so flustered by that kiss, except that it was completely unexpected…and sweet…and arousing…and wrong! Shaking herself out of the fog in which Puck's actions had placed her, Rachel changed out her books and slammed her locker shut. She smiled at Finn and Quinn, the familiar ache starting in her chest. She braced herself for the usual torrent of heartache, but the ache didn't grow to its usual monumental proportions.

"You okay, Rachel?" Finn asked, his sweet, simple face scrunching in concern. Quinn rolled her eyes and pushed away from him, but he remained focused on Rachel.

Rachel glanced apprehensively at Quinn. "Uh, yeah. I was just wondering…" She bit her lip, unsure if it was wise to question Finn about his best friend. "Is everything all right with Puck?" She hurried to qualify the question as Finn's face grew suspicious. "He seems really off and I wouldn't want whatever is going on to get so bad that it affects our performance at Sectionals. Of course, I hope he's okay just because he's a person and all, but we really need to be on top of our game and I wanted to check." She wanted to bang her head on her locker as she heard herself continue to ramble.

Finn shrugged. "He's got some shit going on at home, but…" An angry look came over his face. "Did he do something to you?"

Her cheeks flushed as she felt the pressure of his mouth on hers again. "Not really. I mean, he did mess up my hand, but that was kind of my fault, too," she admitted.

"Yeah? Let me see," he said, holding out his hand.

Tentatively, Rachel placed her bruised hand in Finn's and again waited for the rush of emotion she usually felt at his touch. And again, it felt nice, but there was powerful about it. His hand practically enveloped hers. She winced as he pressed gently on her knuckles.

He grinned. "You got him good. You should probably ice that when you get home. It might not do much, but it might make some swelling go down."

She sighed and nodded. "I should have done that yesterday. I didn't think about it." Carefully, she withdrew her hand and swung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll see you at Glee later?"

"I'll be there," he confirmed, looking to the side to see Quinn stalking off down the hallway. "Hey, wait!"

Rachel held her injured hand against her chest, watching them walk away. Quinn punched Finn in the arm, but seemed to calm down when he slipped that arm around her waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder as he leaned down to say something in her ear.

"Disgusting, aren't they?" Kurt said at Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel hmm'ed in agreement. "But wouldn't it be nice to have someone of your own?"

He smiled a little sadly. "Absolutely. Come on. We've got class."

It wasn't until lunch that Rachel saw Puck again. She entered the cafeteria, automatically scanning for an empty table when Jacob popped into her field of vision again. She shuddered at his leer and tried to push past him, but he refused to get out of her way.

"Move," she snapped. "I'd like to eat lunch in peace, please."

"Forget lunch. I'll give you something better to nibble on," he said, pulling his shoulders back and posturing like he had a body of which to be proud.

She barely managed to keep from throwing up and opened her mouth to tell him off when an arm draped over her shoulders and her stomach flipped over.

"Beat it, freak. She's got something better to do than listen to your pathetic attempts to get in her pants."

Jacob's face turned an odd shade of purple and he hurried away, looking back over his shoulder with a vicious expression. He reminded her of that odd little creature in The Lord of the Rings movies. Ugh.

Rachel shrugged off Puck's arm and stepped away from him. "I can take care of myself, thank you," she said, glaring up at him with all the venom she could muster, which wasn't very much because she was relieved at being freed from Jacob's presence.

"Maybe, but I bet it'll be a while before he tries that again. I thought that would be a plus for you." Puck shrugged.

She had to admit that it was pleasant to have someone else scare the cretin away and she was too stunned that it was Puck to be afraid of him. Not wanting to press her luck, but eager to try being nice to him, she blurted, "Would you care to eat lunch with me?" She braced herself for his inevitable rejection, probably complete with insults about how far beneath him she was on the social scale, and was totally surprised when he said,

"Sure."

She did a small victory dance in her head, but quickly squashed it because she was not supposed to care if he wanted to eat lunch with her. It was because they were having an interaction that didn't include rushing to the bathroom to clean herself up before the corn syrup stained her shirt permanently. "Okay. Um, do you see an empty table?"

He scanned the cafeteria and nodded. "Yeah, there's one over there," he said, pointing to the opposite side of the room. "Come on." And he walked with her through the whole lunch room with his hand at the small of her back to guide her.


	5. Sparks

Disclaimer: I claim no right to the Glee universe. Thank you so much for all of your reviews and continued readership. BTW, I modified the ending to 4 to make it a little more plausible. Please Review!

Rachel slid into the chair Puck held out for her and set her lunchbox on the table. Taking a deep breath, she wrenched her nerves under control and waited until he settled into the chair across from her and set his tray down before she opened her lunchbox. She pulled out her sandwich, carefully removing it from the plastic bag and laying the bag out before setting the sandwich down. Any idea of what to say completely escaped her. All she could think about was that kiss, though he didn't seem to be distracted at all.

He acted as though it was the most natural thing in the world for them to be eating lunch together. Her nose wrinkled as he took a huge bite of his pizza and chewed it loudly, but he paid no attention.

"So…" she began. "How's football?" She winced internally. Why were her conversational skills suddenly lacking? She was getting what she wanted, right? An opportunity to show the jerk sitting across from her that he wasn't as alone in the world as he thought? Then why was she so apprehensive?

"Good, you know. It's football." He chugged half of his bottle of Pepsi and plunked it down on the table. "How's, um, Glee?"

She raised an eyebrow at the question. "It's good." At least she wasn't going to be outshined by a jock in the small-talk making.

"Yeah, huh?" he agreed, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a tiny smile.

She popped the straw into her juice box and took a sip, using the everyday action to concentrate on something else other than the few extra beats her heart just took. That frightened her more than he at his most intimidating ever had. But, she was no coward and it wouldn't do to ruin an opportunity to accept his apparent tolerance of her company. She was reluctant to read anything into his actions (well, the nice ones) of the last day and a half, but a small part of her really hoped that he was beginning to see the two of them as potential friends. "I suppose I should say thank you."

Puck paused before he chomped into the pizza again. "For what?"

"For getting rid of Jacob for me. He just gets creepier every day." She shivered as she thought about the boy's intense interest in her. He was hardly dangerous, but a girl could only handle so much crudity before she snapped.

Puck nodded in agreement. "He does indeed."

Eyeing him, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, bruise notwithstanding, and how his hand shook slightly as he reached for his food. For the second time, she touched him without thinking, laying one hand over his on the table. "Is everything all right with you? You look like you're going to pass out or something." Leaning over, she pressed her wrist to his forehead. "Are you getting sick?" His skin didn't feel especially warm, but little sparks of heat seemed to prick her wrist all along where they touched. Almost the way she tingled when she and Finn managed to make skin to skin contact.

His eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

"Noah?" she asked, hoping that he wouldn't object to her use of his first name. It fit him so much better when he was like this. It would be difficult to _prevent_ the cultivation of an attraction to him if he continued to act like this toward her.

He shook his head and leaned back, away from her. She quickly tucked her hands back into her lap. "I'm fine. Just tired," he told her.

"You won't be any good if you're worn out. Maybe you should go to the nurse and rest for a while," she suggested. "I've read that exhaustion is a growing problem among high school students because they are expected to do so much: get good grades with a curriculum ever increasing in difficulty, participate in clubs, do community service, sometimes work part-time, not to mention any problems that can make that all more difficult like a bad home life or bullying at school. I don't know how we're supposed to survive it all, much less excel. At least I only have Glee and school, and MySpace, but that's something else. You've got school and football and Glee and your pool business, right? That's a lot."

He frowned at her. "I can handle it. Are you saying I can't?"

Rachel bit her lip. She definitely didn't want to make him upset. "Not exactly. I'm saying that the pressure can get to anybody and it seems to be getting to you right now. I'd rather not have to miss Sectionals because you're sick or something. We really need you. I have enough to worry about without worrying about you, too." She watched for his reaction with apprehension.

He snorted. "You'd worry about me? Not just because it would interfere with Glee?" Those eyes of his locked on her face with a poorly veiled intensity that she tried not to see. Hadn't he said that he hated her guts not even 24 hours ago?

She surprised herself by immediately saying, "Of course," and meaning it absolutely. As she sat there across from him, sharing a normal moment with him, she realized that it would be very easy to care about him. She was tempted to ask him right out why he had decided to change the way he behaved toward her, but she didn't think she could handle an answer just yet.

"Thanks."

The simple sincerity in the quiet word tugged at something deep inside her. "That's what friends are for." She put her half eaten sandwich back into the bag and tucked it all into her lunchbox. Steering the conversation back to topics safer than emotional connections, she asked, "Would you consider working with me on some stuff for Glee? You are quite handy with the guitar and your voice isn't bad either. I can help you develop your vocal skills while you can play for me. We could make an excellent team."

He shrugged.

"Maybe this afternoon? You could come by my place and you could stay for dinner if you wanted to. My dads would be happy for me to have a friend over," she admitted.

He chewed for what seemed like forever on the last bite of his pizza, looking at her with a different expression than she had ever seen on his face. It made her nervous.

"Maybe this afternoon? You could come by my place and you could stay for dinner if you wanted to. My dads would be happy for me to have a friend over."

Puck couldn't believe that she had just asked him over to her house. In an instant, his head was filled with little fantasies of how simultaneously right and wrong that could go. He imagined the two of them ensconced in her room, which was likely to be an insane shade of pink, working through the last few bars of some sappy love song together. Her dark eyes would be soft, the way they always were when she sang with Finn, and her hair would be loose around her shoulders, or maybe swept to the side. He liked it when her hair was like that. Their eyes would stay locked together and slowly they would approach each other; he would be confident, she would be inexperienced but curious. His mouth went dry as his mind naturally followed the storyline to a pleasurable conclusion. Damn. The rest of the day was going to be difficult.

"Noah?" She waved her hand in front of his face.

He blinked and looked at her. "Oh. Sure."

She snapped her lunchbox shut and stood. "Do you have any food allergies or anything? Having to rush you to the hospital would not make an ideal evening."

He shook his head. "Nope. I can eat anything and everything." He suddenly wanted a vanilla soft serve cone.

"Excellent," she said. "I'm going to go by the music room and pick up some sheet music. I recommend that you get some rest somehow. I'll see you at Glee." Turning on her heel, she swung away from him, her skirt swinging up on a motion that almost gave him a very interesting view, and marched out of the cafeteria.

He watched her leave, then leaned back in his chair and groaned. He knew that pursuing her was a mistake. She was all hung up on Finn and he was still messed up over the whole Quinn issue, but Rachel's presence somehow made it seem like it would all work out fine if she could only be by his side. All he had to do was convince her that he was better for her than Finn.

With that vague plan of action in mind, he got up. Glancing at the clock, he realized lunch was almost over and it was due for his midday nap anyway. Trigonometry was his first class after lunch.

At 2:00, the nurse shook him awake. She checked him over briefly and sent him on to his last class with a pat on the cheek. He had no idea why she accepted his excuses every day, but he wasn't exactly complaining. Math sucked ass.

He made his way through the halls to his locker, his jacket slung over his shoulder. He neared the corridor down which Rachel's locker was and paused upon reaching the corner, peering around it to see if she was there. And he was in luck, or whatever one would call it. He wasn't sure if luck was the right word for seeing a woman he was suddenly ridiculously attracted to but who was also hung up on his best friend and completely crazy.

She stood with the door open, messing with her hair in front of the tiny magnetic mirror she kept in there. From where he stood he could see her face scrunch up in a scowl as it apparently didn't do as she wanted. Finn wandered by, oblivious as always, and she quickly shook it back and slammed the door shut. She had that ridiculous smile on her face again as she spun around to say hi to him.

Puck felt the beginnings of a real headache as they chatted, obviously very familiar with each other. He hated watching her lean in close to his best friend and touch him playfully. Finn poked her back, turning to rest his back on his locker. She blushed lightly, her smile growing in response to Finn's comments. The bell rang and she started down the hall away from him, waving good-bye to Finn as she left. He headed up the hall toward Puck, who immediately started walking like he hadn't been pseudo-stalking.

"Hey, Puck," Finn called. "Good nap?" He clapped a hand on Puck's shoulder, grinning at him in a conspiratorial manner.

Puck nodded. "Yeah, you know." Though he wasn't known for his self control, he managed to swallow his agitation.

Finn practically dragged him along to their last class. "Thanks for making an effort with Rachel. It makes things so much easier when you all get along," he said. "She said that you helped her with a problem at lunch. Wouldn't tell me much more than that." He shrugged.

Puck glanced at his friend sideways. "She talks about me? Ugh," he said automatically. Acting fast, he squelched the satisfaction before it spread to his face. She talked about him, to other people. He tried not to think about how he could still taste vanilla.

Finn's face assumed the expression somewhere between confusion and understanding that always showed up when he was thinking hard. "Not usually. Earlier she was asking about you. Seemed kind of worried, but that's Rachel. She's like that. I just told her you had stuff going on at home. Shit, did you do the homework?"

They stumbled into class a few minutes late, but no one really noticed. A substitute teacher sitting at the desk in the front of the room glanced up at them.

"Study hall, boys. Mr. Goddard's out with the flu. Just keep it down," she said and returned her attention to the papers she was grading.

"Thank God," Finn muttered and pulled out his book as they sat down in the back of the classroom. "He said he was going to talk to Coach if I missed another assignment. Then, Coach would talk to Mom and-" he shuddered.

Puck rolled his eyes. "Crisis averted." He shifted in his seat and tried to keep it casual as he asked, "So, do I need to install a new security system in my house?"

Finn looked at him in confusion. "What?"

Hating and loving Finn's idiocy at the same time, Puck prodded, "Rachel? Am I going to have to carry a Taser?" The knots in his back tightened to to point of pain. It was all gonig to blow up big if he and Rachel...did what, dated? Just fucked? No, he didn't like the way that second option sounded or the sinking feeling it produced in the pit of his stomach. Not that he didn't want to fuck her. He sure as hell did, but (and it was a huge step to admit this to himself, even after the last couple of days) he wanted more than that with her. He wanted...He wasn't sure, but he wanted more.

"Oh," Finn's eyes lit up as he understood what Puck was asking. Then he laughed, "I doubt it. You are _not_ her type."

His pride dented, Puck snapped, "And what is her type?"

Finn shrugged. "I dunno. Me?" he said as though it were the most obvious bit of information in the world.

It took everything in Puck not to reach over, grab Finn by the throat and squeeze. Instead, he said, "Nice." Finn's indecision over Quinn and Rachel pissed him off. Though he loved Finn like a brother, Puck wanted to beat him like one, too. Finn had always come out on top when it was down to the two of them. His dad was dead (not that Puck wanted it to be that way) when Puck's was very much alive and into "teaching" by force. Finn was dating the one girl Puck had thought he ever really wanted and now he was stringing along the only other girl with whom Puck actually did think he could build a real connection. Finn was the golden boy that everyone loved and Puck was the bad seed who was only on top because everyone else was afraid to challenge him. He looked over to see Finn hard at work on last night's homework and felt a small bit of satisfaction. At least he was smarter.

And he spent the rest of the period completely ignoring his best friend.


	6. Spaghetti and Meatballs

**Disclaimer: I claim no right to the Glee universe. Thanks so much for all your support and Please Review!**

* * *

Rachel dashed around the kitchen in a flurry of energy, giving a quick stir to the spaghetti sauce simmering in a pot before flipping the light on in the oven to check on the garlic bread and the meatballs. Satisfied that both looked good, she cracked several handfuls of spaghetti into a pot of boiling water and whipped out the largest knife they owned to begin chopping the vegetables for a salad. She sang along softly to the original cast recording of _Wicked_ playing over the kitchen's sound system. The whole house was wired with speakers in every room set up to broadcast a single channel throughout the whole house or separate music in each room.

"Mmm, smells good, kitten," her father said as he opened the refrigerator door to get a bottle of water. "Ben, doesn't this smell incredible?"

They both laughed at the faint affirmative of her other dad from his office.

"So, this boy is something special, huh?" he said, taking a drink as he watched her work.

She paused in the chopping to think about it. "I don't know, Daddy. He's actually been kind of a jerk to me up until now, but I think that's because he doesn't know any better. I think that his father isn't very good to their family. Nothing like the two of you. And since he's in Glee, I can offer my friendship and help him so that our chances of winning are better."

Her father moved over and took the knife, placing it on the cutting board, and grabbed both her hands in his. "Be careful with that, kitten. He's not a project."

She sighed. "I know. I've just-I've just liked this other boy for so long while Noah was such a jerk and now that I know a little bit more about him, it changes things. I don't think I'm ready to give up…"

He pulled her into a hug. "I know it's hard, but you've got to be fair to the both of you. Just let things happen the way they're supposed to and don't worry if things seem to be working out different than you wanted." He kissed her forehead. "It might be better than you think. And, whatever happens, we're here for you."

"Thanks, Daddy," she said, hugging him back. She retrieved the knife as he headed back upstairs and made quick work of the remaining components for the salad. Layering it all into a bowl, she covered it with plastic wrap and placed it in the refrigerator to keep cool. The timer for the meatballs went off right then, so she pulled those out of the oven and plucked them from the tray to drop into the sauce. She was just about to drain the spaghetti when the doorbell rang and her whole body twitched in nervous anticipation.

"I've got it," she called as she turned the music off and slipped down the hallway to the front door. Clicking the locks open, she took a deep breath before she opened the door.

* * *

Puck nearly turned around and left a total of five times before he rang her doorbell. As he waited for her to open it, he adjusted the strap of his guitar over his chest and reminded himself that it was only Rachel Berry and he was only here to get some vocal coaching while he helped her out with accompaniment. Nothing special.

He was all prepared to be pleasant and say all the right things, but when the door opened every thought in his head disappeared, except one. Though she was standing in the doorway looking perfectly ordinary in her usual skirt and sweater getup, he saw her on a bed beneath him with her hair spread around her in disarray and her mouth tinged red from kisses. Somehow she had misplaced her shirt and…

"Would you like to come?" she said.

That startled him and he said, "What?"

Rachel looked at him quizzically. "Would you like to come in? I've got to drain the pasta kind of right now or it'll be too mushy."

"Oh," was all he could manage. Reining in his hormones tonight was definitely going to be a challenge, he thought with despair. "Yeah." Shaking his head, he stepped inside.

She closed the door and turned the locks, smiling at him when she was done. "So, this is my house," she said with a little wave. "If you'll just follow me…" She started down the hall, pointing out things as they passed them. "That's the downstairs bathroom, if you need to use it while we're down here. And that's my dad's office, over there."

"Which one?" he interrupted.

"What?" she asked as she continued into the kitchen.

He indicated the office with his head. "Which dad?"

She blinked at him for a few seconds. "Oh, um, Benjamin. Ben. Paul has his office upstairs. They can't be around each other when they work." She shrugged. "I guess it's too distracting. I'm surprised you remember."

He made some kind of sound. The place smelled wonderful, like he imagined the entirety of Italy smelled. His stomach growled.

Rachel crossed over to the stove and flipped off a burner. Then she grabbed a couple of pot holders and proceeded to try to wrestle a huge pot over to the sink.

"Here," he said, moving behind her and trying to ignore the heat of her body all along his front. "Let me get that." Her body stiffened for a second in the circle of his arms. Letting go of the handles quickly, she let him take hold and ducked out under his arm.

"Thanks," she told him with a smile. "Just pour it out over…"

He carried it over to the sink and poured the contents, spaghetti noodles and water, into the waiting colander. "I know how to drain pasta, Rachel. Looks like you made enough to feed an army."

"Well, I figured that with you coming to dinner, I'd better be prepared," she said, shaking the colander to get out all the water. "Could you bring me that big bowl over there?" She dumped the noodles into the bowl he held out and took it from him.

"Do you need me to do anything?" he offered, the manners drilled into his head by his mother taking over.

She set the bowl on the island and put her hands on her hips, looking around the kitchen. Shaking her head, she said, "No. I think I'm good. You can put your guitar in my room, if you'd like. It's the second door on the right up those stairs. And could you tell my dad that dinner's ready? His study is across from my room."

Puck nodded, glad that her dads seemed cool with them practicing in her room. He climbed the stairs just visible around the corner from the kitchen, slowly absorbing everything around him. Her house was so orderly and clean. His own house was clean, or had been clean, too, but the contents were no where near as nice. A collection of tastefully hung pictures lined the stairs, Rachel at various ages in various costumes, a huge grin on her face and a prize ribbon in her hand in nearly all of them. No wonder she was crazy about making it big.

Reaching the top, he let himself into her room and was surprised to see not the explosion of pink he expected, but a carefully neutral room with only a few pink accents. He unslung his guitar and set it next to a music stand sitting in one corner. Taking the opportunity to examine her room without her standing over him, his eyes wandered over the impeccably arranged trophy case, the little offset that contained a workout area. More pictures, these mostly of herself with her dads, decorated the walls. Wandering into the workout area, he had to laugh at the glittery "Sectionals" sign taped to the support beam in front of her elliptical. She sure had a one track mind. Well, two track, he thought as he saw a picture of Finn wedged into the mirror over her vanity table. His libido was temporarily quelled.

"Did you want to eat?" Rachel's voice behind him made him jump.

He spun around and tried not to look guilty. "Food sounds good. It smelled delicious. I didn't know you could cook."

She smiled and his libido was right back on track. "There's a lot you don't know about me," she said and turned on her heel. Knocking on the door right opposite hers, she poked her head in and informed her father that dinner was on the table.

Puck exited her room a few seconds after she hopped back downstairs and came face to face with one of her fathers.

"Hello, Noah, right? I'm Paul," the man said, sticking out his hand.

Puck shook the outstretched hand, his manners kicking in again. "Yes, sir."

Paul chuckled. "Don't fall in to that 'sir' bit. I'm not _that_ old."

"Daddy!" Rachel called from downstairs.

"We'd better go. I don't think Rachel would appreciate us letting dinner get cold when she spent so long preparing it," Paul said. He gestured for Puck to take the lead down the stairs.

They chatted a little about the weather and Puck was surprised to learn that Paul was a collector of music. "Oh, sure. We've got all the show tunes, as you may know, but my tastes range from The Beach Boys to Metallica to Chris Botti. I love it all." Tromping downstairs, they met Ben and Rachel in the kitchen. Puck introduced himself as Rachel handed each of them plates.

"Have as much as you want," she told him. "Would you like something to drink? We've got water, maybe some Pepsi, juice…"

All at once it felt surreal to be in her house having dinner with her and her dads. She was acting so normal, even amazing with her cooking and well-honed hostess skills. He felt like a bum. "Water's fine. I can-" he started but she waved him to silence.

"Of course not. You're the guest." She flitted over to a cabinet and pulled out a glass. "Lemon?"

He shook his head. That was a little too classy for him. "Plain water's good for me. Thanks." After that, dinner passed in a blur. He could recall nothing of the conversation. All he knew was the bliss that was a very well executed home-cooked meal. She was just full of surprises.

"That was delicious, honey," Ben said, stretching his arms and patting his stomach.

Rachel grinned happily as she cleared the dishes from the table. "Good."

Ben stood and pushed his chair in. "It's good that she can cook, because the two of us would starve if it were up to us. While she was growing up, we had a delivery service for meals so that she didn't eat frozen food for every meal." He shook his head in mock despair. "It really is pathetic. I swear, we could burn water."

Laughing, Paul stood with him and scooped up some dishes to carry into the kitchen.

Puck gathered the will to move though he felt disgustingly full, like he had just eaten Thanksgiving dinner at his grandparent's house, so it was a good kind of disgustingly full. He started to pick up his dishes, but Rachel was there before he could move.

"Don't be silly," she admonished. "Like I said, you're the guest."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to let you do all the work. My mother taught me better than that."

She set her jaw and looked him straight in the eye. "Well, tough."

"Ahem."

They both looked over to see her dads watching them with amusement. "Well," Ben said. "You kids have a good time. We're heading out to a movie."

Puck's stomach did an odd flip. He was going to be alone with Rachel in this house, her house, for at least a couple of hours. A quick look at her did little to calm him. Color was high in her face and she seemed to be breathing faster than usual. Faster than he could have seen if he hadn't been watching her closely, she slapped an unconcerned expression on her face and smiled.

"Okay. Have a good time," she said, running around the table to give them both hugs and kisses. "Drive safe."

Puck shook their hands again, saying, "Nice to meet you," to each of them and they were gone. And he was alone, truly and utterly alone, with her for the first time.

* * *

Rachel was in a mild panic. How could they do this to her? Were they crazy leaving her alone in the house with this sex-crazed boy she hardly-_they_ hardly knew? Though, she had to admit, he had been very pleasant all evening and she supposed he was too stuffed to make any sudden moves. The amount of food that he had put away astounded her. She didn't know a person could eat so much and still live. She wondered if there was a discernable bulge where his stomach was. Taking a deep breath, she kept the smile on her face and turned to him. "So, I'm guessing you enjoyed dinner?"

Puck groaned. "Yeah. It was really good." He pressed a hand to his stomach. "I think I might need to lay down for a while."

A genuine smile curved her lips. "Maybe you shouldn't have eaten so much. I don't think there are any leftovers or I would offer to let you take them home." She carried the last of the dishes into the kitchen with him trailing behind. Placing them on the counter, she turned around to find him directly in front of her and close enough to touch for the second time that evening. And again her heart beat wildly at his proximity. Her skin, even under her clothes, tingled in an odd way though he hadn't touched her.

"Wh-why don't you go lay down in my room while I finish cleaning up," she suggested while she could still cling to rational thought. His gaze was almost magnetic and she found that she was unable to look away once their eyes met. Her weight tipped forward onto her toes and her body shifted forward toward his without her express consent. He seemed to lean toward her as well, but then he blinked and the spell was broken. She leapt back against the sink and he clenched his jaw, moving back a few inches.

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea. I feel like I'm going to pop," he confessed. Without looking at her again, he ambled out of the kitchen.

She waited until she heard him reach the top of the stairs and she let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. Holy shit. Jerking herself back to reality enough to concentrate on the ordinary task of rinsing off the dishes, she frowned upon noticing that her hands shook as she reached for the rubber gloves. This most definitely would not do, she decided as she turned the music on and set to work.


	7. Chemistry

**Disclaimer: I claim no right to the Glee universe or to any other copyrighted material present in this story. Thanks so much for all your support! Please Review!

* * *

**

Puck stumbled into her room and crashed face first onto her bed, his head a spinning mess. How was it that she managed to throw him off completely every time? He had followed her with the intention of assisting despite her protests, but he got distracted by the swing of her hips as she walked and he had gotten real close without meaning to. Then, she had looked at him and he couldn't think of anything besides wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the hell out of her. And he had been so close. Damn his conscience.

Hell, he wasn't kidding anyone. He didn't really care that she was so inexperienced. In fact, with her it was a turn on, but at the last second he had remembered the picture of Finn stuck to her mirror and that had been enough to bring him back to reality. Cursing his luck that he was really starting to like the one girl that was doubly bad for him. But…if she could cook everything like that spaghetti, it might be worth it, even if he got fat.

Rolling over and wiggling into a more comfortable position, he took the time to look over her room again. He felt uncomfortable here. With the exception that she had two fathers and she was extremely unpopular at school, Rachel's life seemed like the American ideal. Everything had its place in here but him.

The light floral scent that imbued her pillows floated around him as he shifted. He inhaled deeply and it reminded him of her wrist pressed to his forehead. He relaxed as he thought of the sweet concern on her face and the matter of fact way she had said that she would worry about him. Only his mother and maybe Finn's mom had ever offered comfort like that without strings attached. Even the people at school, the counselors or the nurses, who were supposed to care never really did. Sure, they sympathized as they listened to him as he poured out his eight-year-old heart and hugged him as they pressed Band-Aids over his skinned knees, but he had never felt that they were sincere. And then there was Rachel, a girl he had tormented daily for almost two years, a girl who barely knew him, and she was the only one who had communicated pure and simple caring when she brushed her fingers over his cheekbone or checked him for a fever. It made her dangerous and infinitely appealing.

He was so wrapped up in his musings that he didn't notice when she slipped into the room. So he almost hit her when she spoke right over him.

"Comfortable?" she asked, then squeaked and backed up quickly as he jumped up.

He huffed and sat back on her bed. "God. Don't sneak up on me like that," he warned her.

"I'm sorry," she said in a shaky voice. "I didn't know you were so jumpy. Believe me, it won't happen again."

He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked up at her. "Are you okay?" She had definitely lost some color in her face and she had a hand to her throat. It made his stomach turn to see her like that. He didn't know how many times his mother had worn that expression.

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. That just really freaked me out, too. I am sorry," she apologised again. Taking a quick, deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and dropped her hand.

"It's fine. Just remember next time," he said. He wanted to go over and comfort her somehow, but he thought that might make her anxiety worse. Instead, he retrieved his guitar and sat back on the bed with it. "So, what did you have in mind for Glee?"

Rachel moved to the music stand and shuffled through the stack of sheet music sitting there. She smiled as she found what she was looking for and held it up. "This," she said as she handed it to him. "I thought we could try a duet. You really haven't had much of a chance to sing on your own and I think you've got a lot more talent than you're given credit for."

There she went again, telling him that he was worth something in such a 'duh' tone that he couldn't help but believe her. However, he was still wary of singing a duet with her. "Okay," he said, glancing over the music. Uh, oh. Love song.

"Think you can pick it out as we go along or do you want to run through it first?" she asked, dropping to a seat next to him on the bed.

Exerting a monumental effort to ignore the sudden flames on the left side of his body, he shrugged. "I can pick it out." He glanced around him, looking for a place to put the music where he could read it.

She jumped up. "Oh, here," she said, removing all the papers from her music stand and dragging it over in front of him. Shaking her hair to the side, she leaned over to adjust it, giving him a clear view down the front of her shirt.

Puck's vision instantly narrowed until all he could see were the tops of her breasts, cupped snugly against her body by her bra. He wished his hands were holding them there instead.

He didn't really get more of a view than he got from the sluttier girls (actually, it was less of a view) at school, but the sight still made his whole body tighten. His hands itched to reach out and squeeze. God, what was he? Thirteen? Not even that first girl, Kelli something or other, had made him feel this unsettled and uncertain.

"Okay," she said, straightening up and arranging the sheet music on the stand in front of him. "Ready? Noah?"

He snapped his gaze up to her face to see her place her hands on her hips and raise an eyebrow.

"Were you staring at my chest?" Her voice was incredulous and a little bit pleased. With a practiced flick of her head, she caused her hair to settle back in its usual position across her shoulders.

"No," he said too quickly. "Are we practicing or what?" He arranged his fingers on the guitar strings.

She let her hands fall from her hips with a quick glare and crossed to her vanity to pick up her hairbrush. She smiled and explained, "My microphone." She assumed what he figured was the proper singing stance and nodded to him.

Suppressing his eye roll at her authoritative nod, he ran his fingers over the strings and began to pluck out the tune. Glancing up at her at her cue, she smiled at him and sang,

_Kiss me too fiercely  
Hold me too tight  
I need help believing  
You're with me tonight.  
My wildest dreamings  
Could not foresee  
Lying beside you  
With you wanting me.  
_

_Just for this moment  
As long as you're mine  
I've lost all resistance  
And crossed some borderline  
And if it turns out  
It's over too fast  
I'll make every last moment last  
As long as you're mine_

Maybe I'm brainless  
Maybe I'm wise  
But you've got me seeing  
Through different eyes  
Somehow I've fallen  
Under your spell  
And somehow I'm feeling  
It's up that I fell

**Every moment  
As long as your mine  
I'll wake up my body  
And make up for lost time **

Say there's no future  
For us as a pair

**And though I may know  
I don't care  
**

**Just for this moment  
As long as you're mine  
Come be how you want to  
And see how bright we shine  
Borrow the moonlight  
Until it is through  
And know I'll be here  
Holding you  
As long as you're mine***

* * *

Rachel let the final notes die out and took a shaky breath. She had definitely not expected the odd dropping out of the bottom of her stomach as Puck worked his way through the verses. He was definitely much better than she had anticipated and something had shifted inside her as she watched him play and sing. Though his voice was quite a bit rougher than those with whom she was used to singing, she found that it was far more appealing to her less refined desires.

"That was very good," she said softly, sitting down beside him again. And, sitting there next to him, her body humming with emotions she would never have thought Noah Puckerman could evoke in her, all the strangeness of the day came crashing down on her head. "Excuse me," she mumbled, and darted into the bathroom adjacent to her room.

She closed the door quietly and leaned against it for a second. Slowly backing away from the door, she stopped when her calves hit the edge of the bathtub and she sank to a seat on the narrow wall. She had thought that she had gotten herself under control in the kitchen, after reminding herself a thousand times that he was Noah Puckerman, the obnoxious, self-absorbed, self-proclaimed God's gift to women, sitting in her room. He wasn't the kind of guy she was supposed to like and it was completely impossible for his feelings for her to have shifted so dramatically in the last day and a half. She had seen the way he looked at Quinn. He obviously had a thing for the head cheerleader and there was no way he would settle for someone like Rachel. Not that she wanted him to. He had thrown slushies in her face several times a week for the last year, he had tormented Kurt and Artie for no good reason and he had paintballed Finn for joining Glee. But then he had apologized, though for what exactly (there was so much) she wasn't sure; he had saved her from creepy Jacob Israel; he had held her hand so carefully while inspecting it; he had kissed her; and now, he was practicing a duet with her that was all about sex and he hadn't made a single crude remark the entire night.

With a small groan, she slid back into the bathtub and pulled the shower curtain across so that she sat in the enclosed space. She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. Her mind was such a chaotic mess of what should and shouldn't be, but was and wasn't. If she closed her eyes, she could feel his hands cupping her face and smell the clean scent of his soap as he leaned close.

"No," she whispered to herself, willing her brain to return to Finn, to familiar territory where she knew what was what even if it sucked to be in the limbo between something and nothing to him. It was too confusing, too unreal to be attracted, to want Noah so badly when she had been head over heels for his best friend barely a day ago. Maybe the whole situation was just a sad statement about how starved for affection from the opposite sex she was. Ugh.

A soft knock on the door made her squeak. "Rachel? You okay?" Puck called through the door.

She hated the way her body betrayed her as everything sped up at the sound of his voice. He did sound a little worried, but she couldn't answer him. She was too afraid that her own voice would give away her precarious mental position, so instead of answering him, she just pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and tried to take deep calming breaths. She was so wrapped up in trying to calm herself that she didn't hear him ease open the door and step inside until he swept the shower curtain aside.

A short scream burst from her throat as the sudden movement and sound scared her and she jumped about a mile. "Do you always just walk into bathrooms that are occupied by young women? What is the matter with you?" she screeched, desperately trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"What are you doing in the bathtub?" he asked, his voice shaking with laughter.

She glared up at him to start yelling again, but the smile on his face killed the words. Oh. All thoughts flew out of her head as she saw his smile, his real smile, for the first time. She sat there, her predicament completely forgotten, and just stared at him as he laughed at her. She hadn't ever seen him so relaxed and it took her breath away. Against her better judgment and her will, she started laughing, too. "It's not funny," she giggled. "I was thinking."

"In the bathtub?" he wheezed, knocking down the lid to the toilet and sitting down holding his side.

"Okay," she said, trying to keep a straight face. "It's really not that funny."

He coughed. "Yes, it is. Seriously, what were you doing?"

She pushed herself to her feet and rolled her eyes. "I told you, I was thinking." Leaning over, she placed her hand on his shoulder for balance as she stepped out of the tub and onto the floor. Having taken her shoes off prior to coming back upstairs, her stocking feet slid a little on the smooth tile.

Without missing a beat, Puck's hands locked around her waist and effectively twisted her as she came down so that she landed in his lap. "Um, thanks," she said as she immediately tried to bounce back up, but he wouldn't let her.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, dangerously close to her ear with all laughter gone from his voice.

She leaned back a little so she could search his face, but his expression was unreadable. A thousand different and untrue responses flitted through her brain, but instead of using any of those completely plausible excuses, she looked him straight in the eye and said, "You."

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but she held her ground. "What about me?" he pressed, the hand on her outside hip sliding from her hip to her thigh.

She breathed in slowly through her nose, fighting the tremors radiating from where his body touched hers. The heat of his hand on her leg and his thigh under her buttocks caused much more of a reaction in her body than any full contact with Finn ever had. Oh, God. His thumb was stroking soft circles on her leg. Gathering her thoughts with incredible will power, she answered, "That you're dangerous." And he was. She could lose herself completely in him and, though she was afraid she might never find her way back, she found herself totally willing to take the chance.

Rachel knew that she had said the wrong thing as his eyes immediately shuttered and his hands stilled. Gently, he lifted her as he stood and set her on her feet. Her body cried out at the loss of contact.

"Sorry I can't be the safe white knight," he said in a cold quiet voice. He slipped around her and walked back into her room, leaving her standing alone and confused.

It was a few seconds before she could move, the shock of his words keeping her immobile until she heard the soft clicks of the latches on his guitar case. She ran out into her room to catch him, but he was already on his way down the stairs.

"Wait!" she called, hurrying after him. "Noah!"

He stopped at the front door, his hand on the doorknob. "What?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, out of breath from the rapid shifting of emotion inside her. "Why are you leaving?"

"I know I'm not Finn, okay?" he snapped. "But I'm not the kind of guy to hurt a woman. I'm not the deliquent asshole everyone thinks I am. Sure, I'm a jerk sometimes," he admitted as she opened her mouth. "But, that 's not the only thing I am." He yanked the door open.

Moving quickly, she threw herself in front of him and slammed the door shut. "I never asked you to be Finn. And I don't think you'd ever physically hurt me. You can't say that you haven't done it emotionally, because you have, but that's a discussion for another time. I don't think you're only a jerk."

Throwing his hand up he growled. "Then why the hell would you call me dangerous?"

"Because you are," she said, steeling herself as his expression darkened further. "Because in one day, you've managed to turn my world upside down." She relaxed a little and stepped toward him away from the door as he backed up a few steps in confusion. "Because I can't imagine what you could do if you had more time." She managed to get close enough to touch him. She couldn't stop shaking. "Because I want to take that chance," she whispered. And rising up on her toes, she took his face in her hands and pressed her mouth to his.

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*_Rachel_, Puck, **Rachel & Puck. **_As Long As You're Mine_ from _Wicked._


	8. Getting Close

**Disclaimer: I claim no right to the Glee universe or any other copyrighted material present in this story. Thank you so much for your readership and I'm sorry this chapter took so long. School and work kicked my ass during December. Please Review!

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Puck hated the sick feeling in his stomach as Rachel looked him straight in the eye and told him that she thought he was dangerous. Instantly, he felt the full weight of the legacy his father had left him. He remembered his mother trying to hide her face from him when he got home from school, the dark bruise on her cheek still showing through the layers of makeup. He remembered his father yelling wildly and throwing everything within reach without a care to whether it hit someone or not. He saw Rachel recoiling from his touch, a lesser degree of that same fear his mother carried evident in her eyes.

Immediately, he had locked down on his emotions, the pleasant heat generated by the contact with her body hurting against the sudden iciness of his own body. Carefully controlled, he lifted her up and set her on her feet. She didn't want him. How could she when she obviously though that he was no good?

He kept his jaw shut tight as he laid his guitar in its case and clicked it shut. Her words hurt far more than he would have thought and it was all he could do to get out of her house before things got worse. He slung his case over one shoulder and left her room. He ignored her cry of "Wait!" and kept going, wanting to be out of the house and far away when his control snapped. He hated knowing he possessed the same destructive gene as his father. Never would he consciously hurt her, but he couldn't be sure of what would happen if he really lost control. The door was just a few yards away and soon he would…

"Noah!"

Against his will, his feet stopped moving even though his hand was on the door and he was barely inches from freedom. Completely irritated that she had this power over him, he snapped, "What?"

"What are you talking about?" she said, the words coming in light pants. "Why are you leaving?"

He stared at her for a second, drinking in the soft rosy tint on her cheeks and the slightly more obvious rise and fall of her chest with her breathing. He felt sick. "I know I'm not Finn, okay?" he growled. "But I'm not the kind of guy to hurt a woman. I'm not the delinquent asshole everyone thinks I am. Sure, I'm a jerk sometimes," he admitted as she opened her mouth. "But, that 's not the only thing I am." He yanked the door open, fully intending to make tracks, but she threw herself in front of him and slammed the door shut.

Her dark eyes flashed with determination and a little bit of confusion as she told him, "I never asked you to be Finn. And I don't think you'd ever physically hurt me. You can't say that you haven't done it emotionally, because you have, but that's a discussion for another time. I don't think you're only a jerk."

That threw him off and instead of gently moving her aside and continuing on his intended path, he snarled, "Then why the hell would you call me dangerous?"

"Because you are," she said. Puck swallowed hard, preparing for years of bad karma to drop on his head, but her next words caused the bottom to drop out from his stomach. "Because in one day, you've managed to turn my world upside down. Because I can't imagine what you could do if you had more time. Because, "she whispered, only inches away from him. "I want to take that chance." And rising up on her toes, she took his face in her hands and pressed her mouth to his.

His legs had nearly buckled in surprise when she so carefully placed her palms along his jaw and pressed her lips to his own. He had in fact been so surprised that he hadn't had the presence of mind to react in any way at all. Never had he thought that Rachel would actually respond to him so quickly, or even at all. Yet, here she was, tiny and crazy and gorgeous, giving him exactly the opening he needed and he couldn't take advantage of it. He could most definitely taste the sweetness of her lip gloss and feel the softness of her skin, but there was no way he was moving...except for maybe his hand, which released the guitar strap and did nothing to stop it from crashing to the floor. He couldn't quite care. And something else...but he had no control over that either.

She broke the kiss, leaning back and watching his reaction warily. He was sure that she wasn't getting much because his brain was still shorted out. It had been different in the Glee room. He had been in control; he was the one taking the tactical edge and ambushing her delicate sensibilities with the raw sexuality he knew he oozed. Somewhere in his brain a little part of him was sitting in a chair and leaning back at a ridiculous angle with his hands behind his head and nodding as if to say, 'Damn straight. No one can resist this.'

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Rachel had never done anything as remotely risky in her life as kissing Noah Puckerman. In fact, her riskiest behaviour thus so far was limited to attempting to climb out her window just to see if she could sneak out should an occasion warrant it and driving ninety miles an hour (okay, so it was only fifty, but it was in a school zone!) down the street to school. But kissing him meant that her life had changed direction dramatically and there was no going back.

A significant sense of satisfaction warmed her as she heard the clatter of his guitar case on the tile of the foyer. Since he didn't move, she broke the kiss and inched back so that she could see his face. It was blank. She didn't know whether to be pleased or worried. After a few seconds, she opened her mouth to break the increasingly awkward silence, but the words never left her mouth. They were trapped inside, unable to escape because Puck had finally broken out of his temporary paralysis and moved to reciprocate her amorous attentions.

A few squeaks managed to leave her mouth, but he distracted her from her surprise and hesitation by overwhelming her senses. Her body practically melted as he took the lead, driving her mad with little licks and soft nibbles around the border of her lips. One of his hands slid up her back and into her hair at the top of her neck to cup the back of her head. The other pressed her closer and closer to him until she wasn't quite sure where she ended and he began. She gasped when she felt the stroke of his thumb on her bare back and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. And she had thought it couldn't get much better.

It wasn't that she hadn't been French-kissed before. In fact, she and Finn had kissed several times and there was that one time, the first time, with a boy from her freshman biology class, but she preferred not to think about him. This experience of making out with her former tormentor was a little weird when she thought about it, but her concerns were swept aside by the unexpectedly gentle and undemanding caresses of his lips and tongue. She had definitely expected something much more frenetic and insistent. Encouraged despite her inexperience, Rachel opened her mouth a little wider and started to mimic his actions. The quiet groan with which she was rewarded make her a little bolder and she looped her arms around his neck.

"God, Rachel," he whispered softly against her lips and quickly swung her into his arms.

Rachel felt as though she were going to explode or disintegrate or cease to exist in some way, so intense were the desires raging through her body. She felt secure in his arms, confident that he wouldn't drop her or let her fall. She let her fingertips slide over his jaw and trace the line of his throat as he carried her into the living room. The tingles in the pit of her stomach grew even stronger as he sat on the couch and freed the arm under her knees to slide into her hair and pull her close for another searing kiss.

Wiggling across his lap to get even closer, she smiled at the low groan that issued from deep in his chest. His arms clamped down on her, pinning her to his lap and effectively halting her motion.

"You gotta stop that," he said, his breath coming in barely noticeable gasps.

Looking into his eyes, she saw a level of danger she wasn't ready for yet and nodded silently, properly subdued. She dropped her hands to her lap and waited for his cue.

With a small grin, he released her and pulled one of her hands back up to his face. "I didn't mean everything, just the wiggling." He pressed a kiss to the palm he held against his cheek and was rewarded with a soft smile.

Feeling much better about why he had stopped her, she leaned back into him and let him continue his work.

Her body hummed with familiar sensations, but somehow having Puck flipping the switches increased the voltage so that she was ever on the edge of bursting into flame. Every stroke of his fingers across the small of her back or the back of her thigh brought her to the farthest point of her limits, but as soon as she thought she was going to break apart into a thousand pieces, he stilled his hands or pulled away from her mouth for a quick breath. Those few seconds were always just enough to bring her almost all the way back down and then he would begin the process again.

Time passed without meaning until they both were panting and trembling lightly. Rachel had the vague thought that it was a good thing she had such an experienced guide on her first significant foray into exploring her sexuality as part of a pair, but as the thought occurred to her, she realized exactly what she was doing and panic suffused her entire body.

'WHAT THE HELL?!?' screamed the rational part of her brain. There was no buffer zone to cushion her from the full impact of her actions, and for all she knew, he was just using her to prove he could get anyone, any time. Tomorrow, he would be laughing with his jock buddies about how easy it had been to get into her pants.

Sure, he appeared all sincere and sweet now, but what would really happen when he left her house tonight? Was he really interested in pursuing something with her as his eagerness to be close to her indicated or was it all an act? She had seen how he treated the girls at school and she knew that most of them had succumbed to his charms at one time or another. And she had heard him bragging about those conquests on more than one occasion. The thought of him speaking of her in such a way doused the fire in her blood and forced her to take a step back.

Heart pounding from the high, but conflicting emotions, she broke away from him and scrambled off his lap to her own seat on the couch. Ignoring his groan of protest, she grabbed a couch pillow and wrapped her arms around it, using it as a barrier between herself and the most dangerous man in Lima, Ohio.

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Puck let out his habitual groan as she removed herself from his grasp and gained her own seat at the far end of the couch. He turned to her, ready to protest her leaving him high and dry, but the words turned to ash in his mouth as he saw the expression on her face. She clutched a pillow to her chest like a talisman and her eyes were wide with the fading remnants of arousal and the rising glow of panic.

Confusion and frustration filled his mind as he tried to consider every possible reason for her sudden reluctance. He couldn't grasp a clear thought while he was still so worked up, but he definitely tried.

As he watched her, the heat of passion faded completely only to be replaced by a fearful and calculating look. He only hoped that she would tell him what was on her mind before she blamed him for something he didn't know he had done wrong.

She really was beautiful, he thought as he waited for her to speak. She sat there with those smooth, muscular legs mostly exposed beneath the rumpled fabric of her skirt. Her skin was still lightly flushed, her lips reddened and puffy, and her hair in perfect disarray. He really wanted to kiss her again.

"How do I know you're serious?"

Her voice was quiet and flat as she looked straight at him.

He just blinked for a few seconds as the complete 180 caused his brain processes to slow to a crawl. "What?"

She sighed. "How do I know that you're serious about this? About me?" She combed the fingers of one hand through her hair, smoothing it out and pulling it out of her face.

He wasn't sure what to say. Girls had asked him that before and he had always lied, saying "Sure, baby, I want only you," or "Of course, I'm not seeing anyone else," or even, "I'll call you tomorrow. I promise." But none of those usual responses were appropriate anymore. The majority of him was offended that she question him and his motives as the truth was so glaringly obvious to him, but there was that small part of him that acknowledged that she had a point and that it would take more than his usual lines to convince her of his commitment.

Rachel huffed and squeezed the pillow tighter. "I'm not asking for marriage here, Noah, but I'm not some body to use and discard." Her face scrunched as though the thought hurt. "I'm not Santana or any of the other girls at this school to which sex means nothing. I want a relationship. I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost."

Puck felt the usual irritation bubble up inside him at her words. Every time some girl said that, he felt trapped and as a result, he would promise her everything with his words and take what he wanted only to crush her the next day. With Rachel it was different. Somehow when she said those words, it struck home and he wanted to reassure her.

He scooted a little closer to her and pried one hand loose from the pillow to hold in his own, deciding to use the truth to try to get what he so desperately needed. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Her mouth twisted in a sad smile. "You don't have to say anything. I just can't be another locker room story."

Never had he regretted his past actions as much as he did that moment. "You won't be," he said. She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "I get that you can't trust me right now. That's completely my fault. But can you give me a chance? I can't promise anything, but I can try. We'll take it slow and -"

Any further words were cut off by the gentle pressure of her mouth on his. The kiss was soft and sweet and when it ended, Puck felt for the first time that he had done something right.


End file.
